Author's Note: I forgot to mention in the last chapter that there are OotP
spoilers in this fic. I don't think it matters much, as surely anyone who
reads fanficiton has already read the fifth book?
Chapter 2
It wasn't until almost a week before summer was about to end that Lucius told Draco about his mission.
"Master Malfoy is requesting Master Draco in his study at this moment," said the house elf that quickly disappeared.
Draco had been waiting a full two weeks for this. He couldn't ask his father anything because he wasn't supposed to have overheard anything. And Draco wondered what his father may have been looking into during these past to weeks.
Quickly tidying up his appearance, Draco looked into the large mirror in his quarters. White-blond hair slicked back neatly, not a speck of lint nor hair on his dark robes; he was ready.
It was never exactly a pleasant thing to be in the presence of Lucius Malfoy, but Draco refused to let any speck of fear show on his face. Most of the times, he managed to convince himself that he wasn't afraid. Most of the time, he managed to maintain the expected façade. And Draco didn't want to think about the other times.
He stood in the doorway to his father's study. Rule #16: Never speak unless you are spoken to.
"Draco," came his father's voice from where he sat at the large desk. The study was decorated in various shades of black and gray, and though large, Draco could feel how it pressed in upon him. He couldn't breathe.
But the moment was soon over. He stood in front of his father's desk, waiting for the annual speech and hopefully the news of his mission.
"My only son. I had hoped that you would live up to my expectations this year, especially after our.chat.last summer after your O.W.L results. And while you may have done better than most expected, I do not wish to see you think that you can relent upon your studies this year."
Draco had been preparing himself for more remarks on the fact that he hadn't scored as high as that Granger girl. Their O.W.L.s had been surprising close, but Granger had beat him, scoring an O in almost everything. It simply wasn't humanly possible to beat her. Yet after the little "chat" (as his father had called it), Draco had worked harder than ever in his sixth year, and he wondered if it had finally paid off. Was his father proud? Lucius probably wouldn't opening admit it except to the other deatheaters, but Draco could feel a surge of hope rise in him.
His father was holding his Hogwarts letter. And there, in his other hand, was a badge. A Head Boy Badge.
"I believe his is yours. I am glad to see that it won't be on that filth Potter's robes this year, but on a Malfoy, where it belongs."
"Yes, father," Draco said, taking the badge from him. It shimmered a bright gold against the dreary study. Malfoys always wore silver, never gold if they could help it.
"I hope you know that I am expecting top marks from you. You will be taking your N.E.W.T.s this year, and I do not wish to see anything below great. As well, you shall be coming of age this year, and that poses many more responsibilities, Draco."
And here it was coming. The tasks his father would set him, something that made him both revel in the pride of being given responsibility and also made a part of his mind shiver.
"There is something that the Dark Lord wishes you to do. Listen carefully, Draco, for the Dark Lord has had his eye on you for a while yet and you would do well not to mess this up. There will be no seconds chances." Lucius' ice-blue eyes bore into Draco's.
"The daughter of the Lestranges has been hidden at Hogwarts. We didn't have the means until now to find her. She will be in your year, and she will have been heavily disguised by Dumbledore." Lucius drew a sneer at having to speak that name. "I will teach you the incantation that will allow you to determine who she is."
"And Draco, when you find out her identity, you must owl me immediately. And remember, this girl is powerful, the Lestranges are very loyal to the Dark Lord, and he knows it. I shouldn't have to tell you not to start a fight with her." There was a gleam in Lucius' eye, as if he was planning something. Well, his father was always planning something.
Draco breathed deeply, not sure whether the assignment was a blessing or a curse. At least I don't have to kill anything, he told himself. Or confront monsters, or do any number of scary things that could have been bestowed upon me.
All he had to do was find a girl.
****
Hermione spent the last month of her summer at number 12, Grimmauld Place as she had for the last two summers with Ron and Harry.
She was greeted enthusiastically by all of the Weasleys who were in current residence. Hermione saved a special smile for Ron, and was comforted by his lanky figure.
"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked, moving up the staircase. Ron was right behind her, pulling her trunk.
"He just arrived the other day, but he won't come out of his room," Ron said, his voiced saddened. Harry had indeed gone through tough times, and sixth year had been no exception.
"We have to talk to him, Ron. He can't see this as.he can't go on thinking that everything is his fault; it'll kill him."
"I know."
Harry was laying on the small bed in the room he shared with Ron, staring at the ceiling. Even when Hermione sat across the bed in the window seat, he didn't move his eyes. He looked washed out, his hair was still a mess, his glasses askew, with bags under his eyes. Hermione would have thought that he was sleeping with his eyes open if he hadn't spoken.
"I still can't believe how stupid I am. Going back to the veil with Luna. I just.wanted him back so badly, as if bringing him back would make everything alright, balance out all the bad that happened.
"And then, I screwed it up again. And Luna.she didn't deserve to die. Did I tell you, right when she was falling into the veil, she looked right into my eyes, and I swear I saw a smile there." Harry had tears falling down his face, but he continued to talk.
"It's funny. Summer always gives me too much time to think. To think, and wait, and wonder what will happen next year. And yet, this next year is coming too quickly; the end is coming too quickly. This is the last year, Hermione. I know it. And I'm beginning to think I won't make it."
"Well, if you think like that you probably won't make it," was Hermione's reply. She wasn't going to play the person that would make false promises or give him too much hope, he'd already had plenty of that.
Harry snorted. It was a funny thing; this boy, now almost grown into a man, laying on his bed like he might never get up, snorting to the ceiling. Hermione laughed, and Harry did also. It died out a little too quickly; things certainly weren't like they were before.
"Er.thanks, Hermione. I'm glad you're here," Harry said, and he raised himself up with a little smile. And they didn't need to say anymore, because they were in the middle of a war and they knew each other so well, and everything just keeps on going, even during that war.
"Hey," came a voice from the doorway. It was Ron, of course. "Can I come in, or is this a private party?"
"Nothing's private when the Weasleys are around," Hermione said with a smile. Ron bolted in, crashing onto his bed(with his bright orange quilt from the Burrow), and knocked over a lamp in the process.
They all laughed, and it felt good to laugh as if there wasn't something huge and dark waiting for them. These were her friends, and nothing could keep them apart, nothing could tear the bonds they had made with each other over the last six years.
Or at least, that's what she thought.
Chapter 2
It wasn't until almost a week before summer was about to end that Lucius told Draco about his mission.
"Master Malfoy is requesting Master Draco in his study at this moment," said the house elf that quickly disappeared.
Draco had been waiting a full two weeks for this. He couldn't ask his father anything because he wasn't supposed to have overheard anything. And Draco wondered what his father may have been looking into during these past to weeks.
Quickly tidying up his appearance, Draco looked into the large mirror in his quarters. White-blond hair slicked back neatly, not a speck of lint nor hair on his dark robes; he was ready.
It was never exactly a pleasant thing to be in the presence of Lucius Malfoy, but Draco refused to let any speck of fear show on his face. Most of the times, he managed to convince himself that he wasn't afraid. Most of the time, he managed to maintain the expected façade. And Draco didn't want to think about the other times.
He stood in the doorway to his father's study. Rule #16: Never speak unless you are spoken to.
"Draco," came his father's voice from where he sat at the large desk. The study was decorated in various shades of black and gray, and though large, Draco could feel how it pressed in upon him. He couldn't breathe.
But the moment was soon over. He stood in front of his father's desk, waiting for the annual speech and hopefully the news of his mission.
"My only son. I had hoped that you would live up to my expectations this year, especially after our.chat.last summer after your O.W.L results. And while you may have done better than most expected, I do not wish to see you think that you can relent upon your studies this year."
Draco had been preparing himself for more remarks on the fact that he hadn't scored as high as that Granger girl. Their O.W.L.s had been surprising close, but Granger had beat him, scoring an O in almost everything. It simply wasn't humanly possible to beat her. Yet after the little "chat" (as his father had called it), Draco had worked harder than ever in his sixth year, and he wondered if it had finally paid off. Was his father proud? Lucius probably wouldn't opening admit it except to the other deatheaters, but Draco could feel a surge of hope rise in him.
His father was holding his Hogwarts letter. And there, in his other hand, was a badge. A Head Boy Badge.
"I believe his is yours. I am glad to see that it won't be on that filth Potter's robes this year, but on a Malfoy, where it belongs."
"Yes, father," Draco said, taking the badge from him. It shimmered a bright gold against the dreary study. Malfoys always wore silver, never gold if they could help it.
"I hope you know that I am expecting top marks from you. You will be taking your N.E.W.T.s this year, and I do not wish to see anything below great. As well, you shall be coming of age this year, and that poses many more responsibilities, Draco."
And here it was coming. The tasks his father would set him, something that made him both revel in the pride of being given responsibility and also made a part of his mind shiver.
"There is something that the Dark Lord wishes you to do. Listen carefully, Draco, for the Dark Lord has had his eye on you for a while yet and you would do well not to mess this up. There will be no seconds chances." Lucius' ice-blue eyes bore into Draco's.
"The daughter of the Lestranges has been hidden at Hogwarts. We didn't have the means until now to find her. She will be in your year, and she will have been heavily disguised by Dumbledore." Lucius drew a sneer at having to speak that name. "I will teach you the incantation that will allow you to determine who she is."
"And Draco, when you find out her identity, you must owl me immediately. And remember, this girl is powerful, the Lestranges are very loyal to the Dark Lord, and he knows it. I shouldn't have to tell you not to start a fight with her." There was a gleam in Lucius' eye, as if he was planning something. Well, his father was always planning something.
Draco breathed deeply, not sure whether the assignment was a blessing or a curse. At least I don't have to kill anything, he told himself. Or confront monsters, or do any number of scary things that could have been bestowed upon me.
All he had to do was find a girl.
****
Hermione spent the last month of her summer at number 12, Grimmauld Place as she had for the last two summers with Ron and Harry.
She was greeted enthusiastically by all of the Weasleys who were in current residence. Hermione saved a special smile for Ron, and was comforted by his lanky figure.
"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked, moving up the staircase. Ron was right behind her, pulling her trunk.
"He just arrived the other day, but he won't come out of his room," Ron said, his voiced saddened. Harry had indeed gone through tough times, and sixth year had been no exception.
"We have to talk to him, Ron. He can't see this as.he can't go on thinking that everything is his fault; it'll kill him."
"I know."
Harry was laying on the small bed in the room he shared with Ron, staring at the ceiling. Even when Hermione sat across the bed in the window seat, he didn't move his eyes. He looked washed out, his hair was still a mess, his glasses askew, with bags under his eyes. Hermione would have thought that he was sleeping with his eyes open if he hadn't spoken.
"I still can't believe how stupid I am. Going back to the veil with Luna. I just.wanted him back so badly, as if bringing him back would make everything alright, balance out all the bad that happened.
"And then, I screwed it up again. And Luna.she didn't deserve to die. Did I tell you, right when she was falling into the veil, she looked right into my eyes, and I swear I saw a smile there." Harry had tears falling down his face, but he continued to talk.
"It's funny. Summer always gives me too much time to think. To think, and wait, and wonder what will happen next year. And yet, this next year is coming too quickly; the end is coming too quickly. This is the last year, Hermione. I know it. And I'm beginning to think I won't make it."
"Well, if you think like that you probably won't make it," was Hermione's reply. She wasn't going to play the person that would make false promises or give him too much hope, he'd already had plenty of that.
Harry snorted. It was a funny thing; this boy, now almost grown into a man, laying on his bed like he might never get up, snorting to the ceiling. Hermione laughed, and Harry did also. It died out a little too quickly; things certainly weren't like they were before.
"Er.thanks, Hermione. I'm glad you're here," Harry said, and he raised himself up with a little smile. And they didn't need to say anymore, because they were in the middle of a war and they knew each other so well, and everything just keeps on going, even during that war.
"Hey," came a voice from the doorway. It was Ron, of course. "Can I come in, or is this a private party?"
"Nothing's private when the Weasleys are around," Hermione said with a smile. Ron bolted in, crashing onto his bed(with his bright orange quilt from the Burrow), and knocked over a lamp in the process.
They all laughed, and it felt good to laugh as if there wasn't something huge and dark waiting for them. These were her friends, and nothing could keep them apart, nothing could tear the bonds they had made with each other over the last six years.
Or at least, that's what she thought.
